Superstar
by Hagane
Summary: (AU) Practically forced into modelling, Mitsui finds that the job really isn't as pretty as it looks. With people clawing to bring him down, there's a select few he can trust. RuMit, MakiFuji, MakiSen


**Superstar  
**  
"_I don't know what it is that makes me feel like this I don't know who you are but you must be some kind of superstar Cos you've got all eyes on you no matter where you are."  
-Jamelia_

Bright lights.

Loud music.

Groping hands.

Lousy alcohol.

Gads, what was the world coming to? Mitsui sniffed distastefully as the anorexic excuse of a skeleton offered him another pack. Another generously volunteered his fag. Mitsui squinted in the dim lighting and barely made out the words on the stick- Yves St Lauren. Hmm, not bad considering. He flirted briefly with the idea of nicotine inhalation. Tobacco was sexy but then almost immediately, he pushed the thought away. Nuh-uh. No way was he going to die by coughing or choking on his own breath. If he was going to die, it wouldn't be from smoking. Nor from the drugs the others were passing around.

"Have one?" rasped a blond. Mitsui took in his appearance. Tall, fair. Bleached blond hair. Bland, pleasant features. Probably good-looking. If you liked the type, thought Mitsui. Audibly, he reprimanded his friend,

"You've asked a million times already. The answer's still no." The other sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're no fun Hisashi. Whoever heard of a model who doesn't do drugs?"

"Me for starters," he replied curtly.

A grin spread over his features at Mitsui's obvious displeasure. "Aw man, don't piss up over nothing. You seriously need to loosen up." He cocked his head at the girl near his elbow. "Hisashi's such a tight ass. Someone should teach him how to have fun." She giggled. "Yeah. You're missing out on so much here, Hisashi-kun. I don't see why you won't" she left her sentence hanging as another girl caught her eye. She stiffened visibly. "Bitch alert," she muttered darkly.

Mitsui, too impatient to hang around any longer, shoved his way through the mess of sweaty bodies pressed together on the dance floor. He heard his friends call after him but continued to mow through the throng of people, cursing under his breath. Someone grabbed his ass. He swatted the hand away and cursed. Another pulled at his shirt. He yanked the fingers off roughly and stuck his middle finger in her face. Big mistake. The momentary pause found a group of them around him- too close for comfort.

"Where are you going Hisashi-kun? You're not leaving yet are you?" a skinny redhead questioned, lowering her eyes almost demurely when he turned to face her. Almost.

"Funny how you should say that, coz' that's exactly what I was planning to do," he replied. He really wanted out. The music was hurting his ears like the disco lights were hurting his eyes. And the air stank. It reeked of booze and sex and smoke. If he didn't get out of there soon he was sure he'd go mad.

"Awwww, you can't be serious Hisashi-kun, you're our new star. Stay a while more," pouted a busty brunette. The redhead smiled languidly at him, and she leaned close to whisper seductively in his ear,

"I could show you some stuff if you're willing..." Mitsui shuddered as her breath tickled his lobe. "Uhhh, it's all right. I really have to go."

She pouted. Cute, Mitsui thought, but a bit too forthright. "No go?" her lips trembled slightly as she put on a mock-sad expression.

"No." Not tonight anyway, he thought.

"Oh well," she moved aside to let him pass, but the brunette wasn't one to let him go so easily. She stood in his way, hands on her hips.

"Surely I can make you stay?" she insisted, her eyes boring holes into his head.

"I really can't." Mitsui was getting just a bit tired trying to be civil to the half-starved creatures.

"Why the hell not?" she demanded. Mitsui eyed her critically, unsure of how to react. He caught the redhead's eye, but she nodded apologetically and slipped away. Coward, he thought, definitely not my type.

"Well?" she prompted.

"I'm sorry but I can't. Maybe..."he racked his brains for an excuse, "I'll make it up to you sometime."

That pleased her. She brightened up considerably and moved aside. "You do that," she beamed.

Mitsui nodded and hurried off, glad to be rid of her. Stupid emaciated animals. All they ever thought of was drugs, smokes and sex. And fame.

"Going somewhere?" Mitsui sucked in a deep breath and counted to ten before turning around, quite irritated that his progress towards the exit could be so agonisingly slow.

"What?" he snapped irritably.

Emerald eyes blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry. Didn't know you had to use the men's."

"Huh?" he asked dumbly, agitation all but forgotten.

"You look constipated Mitsui Hisashi."

He blinked then stared at the face that was gazing coolly back at him. "That was a joke wasn't it?"

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry, wasn't that funny."

"No, no it was. I just..." he shrugged his shoulders and threw a weary glance around. "I need to get out of here you know?" She nodded sympathetically. "Explains the rush. And the constipated look." She led him towards the bouncer, who nodded curtly at them both and made to open the door. Once out, Mitsui inhaled deeply.

"Yeah. And what's with the preoccupation with bowel movements?" he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

"Well, it fascinates me. Have you been to the gents' backstage? Or to the clubs' we frequent?" Mitsui nodded, curious, "Do you notice that the toilets, they stink of puke? You never see or smell crap. It's always retch or discharge or glue. Never the normal stuff you'd find in normal lavatories." Taken aback, it took awhile for him to regain his composure. "Now that you mention it...I'm surprised I never noticed it before."

She grinned. "Takes a real observer to notice that."

"Yeah. Or a real loser. You haven't got better else to do, do you?" he snorted.

"Not really. Parties bore me. But they're part of the job."

"That makes the two of us."

She laughed. "I'm glad I've found someone who empathises. It's hard to relate to anyone here. They're all about looks and nothing else. You're different, you."

"I see. I don't take drugs, I don't smoke, and I don't do parties very well. In fact, I don't even know why I'm here."

She punched him lightly. "Quit being so deprecating. Why are you here anyway? Doesn't look like the sort of occupation someone like you would consider."

He shrugged. "I was looking for a job and they were looking for a new face."

"A likely story Mitsui Hisashi, I know you too well."

He sighed. "Fine, I was the one they've been looking for. I wasn't looking for a job. I was heading to the gym for a workout."

"Them scouts and their shit timing," she muttered bitterly. She shook her head and smiled at him, "So what do you think of the job?"

"I can't really say. I've only been to parties and the social gatherings. And modelled some designer brands."

"You got a deal with Haruka. After less than a month. I'd say that's quite impressive."

"Really." He responded, not sounding too impressed.

"You're not meant to be here Hisashi," she said in all seriousness, "you weren't meant for this kind of life."

"It's a bit too late now." He said almost regretfully.

-

He tapped his foot impatiently. The model was late. The photo shoot was to start at ten and it was already half past. Nine. Feeling increasingly restless, he rearranged the lighting and the backdrop for the shoot. Once done, he glanced at his watch again. A quarter to ten. And he still wasn't here.

"Call the agency!" he barked to one of the lighting crew. That was the problem with these models. Once they were hot stuff, they thought they could do anything.

"Koshino-san, Akira's here." Koshino whirled round, directing his glare at the new arrival.

"For god's sake Akira! Can't you ever be on time?" he nagged, as the boy smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry. There was a jam downtown..." he tried to explain but Koshino cut him off.

"Stuff it. I want you ready in ten." He motioned to the make-up artists. "Get him ready in five. Now scram!"

He sniffed disapprovingly as they dragged Akira for his costume change. Then something occurred to him.

"And do something about that disgusting hair of his!" he yelled across the studio. "Honestly, I don't know what people see in him...and to think I have to be the one to take his pictures!" he grumbled.

-

"Smile!"

Mitsui flashed his pearly whites. "Brilliant!" the photographer, Fujima Kenji, nodded approvingly. "The camera loves you!"

Mitsui grinned. "That's why I'm here."

Fujima laughed. "Well, that's all for today. I'll see you again Thursday. Or not. I think we've got more than enough shots."

"For a whole season?" Ayako sputtered disbelievingly.

"Well, he is good."

"It takes at least a month to finish a photo session. You can't be done already!" she insisted, digging into her purse for her schedule book. Upon finding, she flipped it open and scanned the pages intently. "It says here you have another week to finish this and a further three days to meet the deadline."  
"Well, we're pretty much done here." Fujima said coolly, motioning to his crew to pack up.

"But that's impossible! A week ahead of schedule!"

Fujima smiled dryly. "I'm not world famous for nothing." To Mitsui, he smiled and offered a handshake. "Nice working with you. You're a real pro, and the lenses love you. Maybe we should meet up sometime for coffee? I'd like that."

Mitsui met his handshake with a small grin. "I'd like that too, Fujima- san."

"Oh no, call me Kenji. We're on first name basis now, Hisashi-kun." He gave a quick hug to the younger boy. "I'll see you soon then."

"Of course."

Ayako coughed, interrupting their parting exchange. "Mitsui-kun, we'll have to head back to the office. Got to settle some things," she added, throwing an odd look at Fujima who deflected it easily.

"I'll be seeing you then, Kenji," he waved as he followed his manager out of the studio.

"Likely, sooner than you think Hisashi-kun," he whistled cheerfully as he packed.

-

"What's the problem Ayako?" Mitsui asked his obviously distressed manager.

"The problem Mitsui-kun? The problem is we've got no plans for a week and three days. You're practically free for a whole week!" she screeched hysterically.

"I don't see what's the problem with that," he asked her, confused.

She rounded on him and shook her head vigorously. "You're obviously too new to all this to understand. It's a HUGE problem if one of our models has a blank schedule for a whole week. You're supposed to be occupied all the time."

"I see." Though he didn't really. "What should I do then?" Ayako leaned back into the seat and stared out the window. "That's why we're heading back to the main office now. They'll think of something."

-

"Thank heavens it's all over." Grumbled Koshino, more than a little relieved that he wouldn't have to see any more of a certain irritatingly cheery model. Ever. "Pack up you guys, we're going home." He told his crew.

"So...that's it? No more shots?" Akira turned to his manager for solace.

"That's it."

He beamed at the sullen dark-haired man. "Since we're done, can we go get a drink somewhere?"

Maki considered awhile. "I suppose."

"Great!" Sendoh was tempted but he restrained himself from glomping the other man. Maki wouldn't like it. Maki never liked bodily contact.

"Thanks for everything Koshino-san," Maki proffered his hand. Koshino smiled dryly, and caught his eye. And the underlying meaning behind that simple statement.

"It was wonderful working with YOU, Maki-san." He accepted the hand. Though I can't say the same with the idiot model of yours, he thought.

As if reading his mind, Sendoh gave him a wounded look which he blatantly ignored.

"Well, I'll see you around then," Maki nodded and watched Koshino and his team leave. Once they were out of earshot, Sendoh whirled on him.

"I swear he's got something against me!" he pointed at Koshino's departing back accusatorily.

"What gives?" asked Maki, faintly amused.

"Shinichi!" he growled, "I don't know why he's got something against me but I swear he does!"

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it," he stated simply.

Sendoh huffed. "You could be more tactful you know," he sulked.

"I'm sorry." Sendoh's lips quirked in a small smile.

"How sorry?"

"Sorry sorry. Is there another way of being sorry?"

"Shinichi!" he pouted.

"Fine. I'm sorry sorry. Really sorry."

"Buy-Akira-pizza sorry?"

"Akira!" Maki frowned. "You're on a diet!"

"But I'm hungry!"

"You don't have to eat pizza!"

"But I want to eat pizza!"

"You can't."

"Shinichi"

"NO." Maki was adamant.

"Shinichi"

"No means no Akira."

"Why the hell not? YOU eat pizza!" he glared accusingly through teary eyes.

"I'm not a model, it doesn't matter what I eat. They won't fire me if I get fat. But you, you're a different thing altogether."

"Please? You said you were sorry!"

Maki took a long look at the boy standing before him. He sighed. "Fine."

"Cool! You're the best Shinichi!" Sendoh, forgetting or more likely, not caring that he didn't like unnecessary body contact, hugged him.

"But don't blame me if you tip the scales." Maki grumped into his hair.

-

"Mitsui-kun! Ayako! You're just in time!" Haruko, their receptionist cum secretary greeted them the moment they set foot in the building.

"In time for what Haruko?" Ayako asked, slightly overwhelmed at the surprising welcome.

"Some people from Mookamori are here to see Mitsui-kun. And right before you came in, there was a certain designer who called. In person," she confided in them as she ushered them into the elevator.

"Who?" asked Ayako. Mitsui looked slightly interested.

"I can't say. You'll have to meet him in person."

"Hmmmm..." Ayako was silent as she considered her thoughts. Haruko turned to Mitsui who was fingering his collar. "How was the photo shoot Mitsui-kun?"

"It was okay. We're done already."

"A week earlier than expected! You're ahead!" she gasped in surprise.

"Yeah. That's exactly what Ayako said," he replied, somewhat amused.

"How did you find Fujima-san?"

"He's nice."

"He is isn't he?" Haruko smiled at him. "We're here, now don't be surprised, they've come all the way to meet with you, so act natural, answer honestly and leave everything to sort itself out..."

"Oooookay..."

-

"Mitsui-kun."

Five men stood up the moment he entered and he wondered vaguely who they were as he shook hands and exchanged formalities with them all. Aida Hikoichi nodded to him and gestured for him to be seated. Complying he slid easily into the vacant chair to her right.

"Mitsui-kun, tell us about yourself."

Caught unguarded, Mitsui sputtered at first. "Urm, well, my name's Mitsui Hisashi, I'm eighteen, nearing nineteen. I just graduated from high school and I..." he paused, "What exactly do you want to know?"

Aida grinned as some of the men nodded approvingly. "Tell us your vital statistics."

"Oh that." Coolly he started to rattle them off but one of the men interrupted.

"Forget that. Tell me, can you strip for the camera?"

He laughed, and caught Ayako's eye. "I live for the camera."

"Great to hear." They were all smiles.

"So, gentlemen, do we have a deal?" Aida leaned forward, hands clasped together on the table.

One of them nodded after exchanging looks with the other three. "We'll sign him on as our new face." He held out his hand for a handshake, which Mitsui accepted. "You've got yourself a deal, Mitsui-kun." Haruko held the door open for them as they followed Aida to her office to seal the deal.

Mitsui was left with the one remaining man, and Ayako, his personal manager.

"Mitsui-kun, meet Soichiro Jin."

"I'll be seeing you then, Hisashi-kun." Jin smiled pleasantly before excusing himself. Haruko winked at Mitsui before she showed the visitor out.

"Wow. I'm impressed. First Haruka, now Mookamori. And Jin. Mitsui Hisashi, you're obviously hot stuff. I've never managed anyone in such great demand before." Ayako shook her head, obviously lost for words.

Mitsui grinned easily. "What can I say, must be the charm."

Ayako started. "Don't let it get to your head so soon young man, you've got a long way to go," she swatted his head playfully.

"Yare yare..." he rolled his eyes and grinned.

-

"Shinichi, you're the best manager I could ask for," Sendoh purred.

Visibly amused, Maki shook his head at the younger boy. "Such lavish praise over pizza and coke. Really, Akira."

"But I'm serious! I wouldn't ask for anyone to replace you!" he insisted.

"Well, that's nice and all, but it's not you who decides, unfortunately. I won't be with you much longer I think. They're scouting for a new face already, think they've already found one. There was a meeting today I was supposed to go to but..."

Sendoh recognised his cue to blush.

"It's all right, it doesn't matter really. If I'm to manage him I'll meet him eventually."

"What about me then?" asked Sendoh, slightly frazzled.

"You'll get someone else to handle you of course. Someone more capable and experienced." Maki mused, "Likely Toru or Kiminobu."

Sendoh recoiled in pure horror at the thought. "But Shinichi! If they take over you as my personal manager that means...no pizza! No coke! No chips!"

"No fooling around. No slacking off. No pigging out," Maki finished for him. He smiled ruefully. "I'm sure you'll miss that. I'm a lousier manager than I thought."

"Are you kidding? You're the best you hear?"

"So says Sendoh Akira."

"Yes so says me! What, you don't believe me?" Sendoh accused, his temper ruffled.

"Funnily enough, no I don't." continued Maki, blissfully oblivious that he'd made the other upset.

"Then go! I don't need you as my manager! I'm glad you won't be staying around much longer!" he stormed off in a huff.

"Akira! I was kidding!" Maki called after him, confused. The boy usually took his teasing very well.

"Well I'm not!" was the reply.

Maki debated to go after him but decided that he needn't bother. Besides, he wasn't sure what had gotten Akira so riled up. He figured, it must be the pizza and gas in the coke.

-

"So," she began conversationally, "are the rumours true?"

"Which ones?" he made a face, "that I'm gay?"

She laughed. "I haven't heard that one yet, but humour me. Are you?"

"I don't know."

"Right."

"I really don't."

"Do you get turned on by the others?"

"That's a dumb question. Of course not. I see them all the time. And, they're nothing but skin and bones and drugs."

"Hah. So says the prince."

"Of?"

"So you haven't heard the rumours."

"Like I said before, which ones?"

"The ones that say you're actually the heir to a multi-million dollar enterprise."

Mitsui blanched. "Where'd you hear that from?"

"Oh, around." She answered casually, though she leaned closer to him. "Go on, tell the truth."

"..."

She leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her face. "So it IS true. You're a fucking rich kid fooling around in our idealistic modelling world. What do you know..." she shook her head. "Tell me, how did you get into this again?"

Mitsui sighed. "Like I said, I was heading for the gym when they spotted me."

"So it wasn't a lie."

"No."

"Nice to know you haven't lied to me yet. Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "Didn't think it was worth mentioning."

She laughed. "True. I probably wouldn't have treated you any different."

They smiled at each other, then, "How about the rumours that say you've signed contracts with some big- shots?"

Mitsui cringed. "Don't make it sound so awful."

"It's true then?" she prompted.

"Pretty much."

"Cool. Who?"

"Jin and Mookamori."

"Jin? As in Soichiro Jin?"

Mitsui nodded.

"Well, shit, I'm friends with a supermodel."

Mitsui's eyes widened in horror. "That sounds so...gay."

She grinned. "Well, it'll suit you if you're one."

Mitsui sputtered and tried to form incoherent sentences. She laughed.

"I'm gonna miss you then little man," she said after awhile.

Mitsui let the insult go at hearing her wistful tone.

"Aoki?" he asked gently. She turned to smile at him.

"You've never said my name before. It sounds nice when you say it." Mitsui flushed.

"Tell Akira I said hi. He's my older brother. Older by a few minutes anyhow."

"What are you talking about?" he asked confused. "Why will I meet him, not that I mind, but why?"

Aoki regarded him in silence before replying.

"They didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"With the contracts you signed, they'll be passing you over to a different agency."

"Why?"

"The agency handles only mediocre models like me. It's a scouting agency, they don't handle hotshots."

"But"

"I can't believe you're this dense, Hisashi. You're obviously the next big thing. Why else would Mookamori and Soichiro Jin want you? And don't forget you started out with Haruka. That's a hell lot more than most models ever get." She cut him in mid- protest.

"I...see." He fell silent.

"I'm happy for you Hisashi, just don't let it all get to your head all right? You're already dense enough as you are." She joked, "And don't forget me. I know you'll meet lots of interesting people, but just try not to forget me all right?"

"Of course I won't!" he looked mortified at the very thought.

She laughed bitterly. "Well, just try anyhow. When are you leaving anyway?"

"You mean starting? In two days."

"Leaving, starting, the same." She rolled her eyes. "I won't be around to say goodbye then, so I'll say it now."

She leaned over the table and looked into his eyes, her emerald orbs burning intently into his soul.

"Goodbye Mitsui Hisashi." She kissed him gently and he felt his heart surge to his throat. He wanted to cry.

"Just a parting word, don't lose yourself."

He nodded, eager to please.

Aoki smiled."I've got to go. There's this bash I have to attend later."

Mitsui nodded.

"Bye then." She slid out from her seat and slipped away, disappearing into the crowd. Mitsui stared at the table sorrowfully, her last words playing in his mind. Don't lost yourself, he thought, shouldn't be hard to do.

-

_tbc_

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